


Your Ex-Daughter is Alive

by EllieCee



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, amell family - Freeform, this is very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11721543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieCee/pseuds/EllieCee
Summary: Amell wondered why her father never wrote to her. Her father didn't know there was anyone to write to anymore.





	Your Ex-Daughter is Alive

**Author's Note:**

> **_(!!!READ FIRST!!!)_ **
> 
> This might get confusing, considering a lot of this is my headcanon re: Amell family. 
> 
> According to canon, after Amell was taken to the Circle, Revka disappeared. Then the rest of Amell's siblings were also found to be mages and her father took them to Ferelden. It seems to be that apostate Amells like running to Ferelden (badum-tss).
> 
> This is based off my headcanon that Revka was so ashamed of having a mage child that she told everyone, including her husband that Amell died on the boat to Ferelden when she was taken.

The recruits were getting younger as the days go. It was frustrating training wide-eyed young men and women who had never seen battle outside training grounds – but all the competent bodies had been sent to Ostagar. Most of the recruits whined and moaned about the muggy weather and half of them could barely yield a sword correctly.

               

If they were useful for anything, it was clearing out nooks and crannies of the woods from stragglers. It was easy enough, most refugees would agree to go the next town’s Chantry so long as the troops supplied them with some bread or blankets.

               

That morning had begun as it always did, the Knight-Commander sending them all into some dense corner of the Hinterlands. It’d been muggy as always and there’d been no shortage of complaints. The scout had reported some refugees hiding out under a rickety bridge. The troops trekked there all afternoon, until they’d spotted it. It was eerily quiet, setting everyone on alert until one of the more observant recruits noticed a bloody arm peeking from a tent.

               

They were all dead. Every single refugee. Men, women, children – dogs. The troops’ mabaris whined at the sight. As they walked forward, the destruction became obvious. Ripped tents, overturned baskets and bottles. Blood. Limbs.

               

The younger recruits groaned, and one young man from Amaranthine quivered as tears fell down his cheeks. There was no possible way any of these recruits would survive real battle.

               

“Search the camp. Maybe we’ll find clues of what happened,” the captain commanded.

               

They scattered, hesitantly pulling back tent flaps and digging through chests and sacks. Sounds of horror and disgust rang against the thick the afternoon air.

               

Then, the young man from Amaranthine approached the Captain, clutching a bloodied, worn cape.

               

“Yes?” the Captain asked.

               

“I found these,” he replied.

               

The captain furrowed her brows.

               

“Recruit, I’ll bet there are dozens of bloodied capes in this camp.”

               

“No, wait,” the recruit explained, turning the cape over to reveal an insignia.

               

“What of it?”

               

“This insignia is familiar,” he began, “I recognized it as the Amells’ crest. My family had ties to them before they fell apart.”

               

The Captain took the cape and studied the crest, running her thumb across the threadwork.

               

“An Amell?”

               

“It seems so. I found it on a body of a man beside his children.”

               

The recruit also revealed an unopened letter.

               

“And this. It hasn’t been opened.”

               

“Interesting to see where they all had ended up,” the Captain mused, taking the letter and studying it too, before returning it to the recruit.

               

“Shall we open it? Maybe it could give us a clue of what happened,” the recruit suggested.

               

“Nonsense. Bandits or darkspawn could’ve caused this. There’s nothing more shameful than opening a dead man’s letter,” the Captain said.

               

 

The recruit nodded in agreement, but as it’s known, recruits never follow Captains’ orders. He let himself behind a group of rocks and opened the letter carefully with his fingers.

 

                _Bayani,  
                _

_I know I am the last person you wish to speak with. I’ve made my share of mistakes and I am aware there is nothing I can do to make up for them. My life since I’ve left you has been nothing short of poverty and shame, so I suppose it was the Maker’s punishment, and I’ve accepted it wholeheartedly._

_I’ve managed to secure your address from a cousin who had claimed to have seen you and the children in Ferelden, and I hope this is really you receiving this. If not, I’ll feel like a fool purging my faults and family secrets to a stranger. But everyone knows of the Amells’ fall don’t they?_

_It’s been too long and the guilt of how I destroyed your heart has been eating me alive. I imagine this is of little comfort to you, but you need to know the truth. Your first-born daughter is alive. Maker knows why you are willing to claim an abomination for a daughter, but since you are, you deserve to know. Your precious Amihan is still alive, somewhere in Ferelden’s Circle._

_I owe you this much._

_\- Revka_

**Author's Note:**

> Amihan is Warden Amell. Bayani is her father.


End file.
